Sparring Buddies
by jocular monoceros
Summary: Shikamaru and Temari have a sparring session. Kinda ShikaTema, not much fluff. Fairly short for my liking.


**A/N: **Hello… yes, I still exist haha this idea is a lot better as, say a movie or something. So if you're really good at that stuff feel free to try it haha let me see and know though, please. Ok? But anyway it seems kinda weird to me… it's kinda ShikaTema. Who else would I write about? But yeahh have a look. It's not the brightest.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Naruto_. All characters within this fanfiction belong to Masashi Kishimoto.

_**Sparring Buddies**_

A flash of green and a heartbeat of time to respond, the older of the two gracefully turning her toes into a change of stance, the back of her hands meeting his as she blocked yet another of his attacks. As a slower movement, it was rather beautiful: the way they came together and pushed away from the other in perfect sync; the way her hands gently returned to her, bending in the fresh wind; the way his remained tense and firm as they returned to a defensive posture that dared his adversary to attack.

The sun burned into their flesh and the wind offered them no aid or relief. Even the deciduous and evergreens of his village seemed to rest and watch their grueling battles, the sun and clouds overhead slowing to almost a halt as they awaited the outcome of the encounter. But even then this audience knew that to each other, they were alone.

The other group of spectators, however, made their presence known quite well; cheers of support and criticism echoed throughout the fields as their peers, both of Suna and Konoha, watched their own battle of the sexes. With Naruto as the loudest source of noise, the others merely followed his example, cringing as their man went down, Kankurou leading the opposing supporters in cheers of approval.

They didn't hear them.

The somewhat chauvinistic male was now sporting a deep gash to his left arm. From where he knelt on the soft, dry ground, he looked up to see his female counterpart with the all too familiar smirk on her lips that negated so many of his opinions. She challenged everything he wasn't bothered to, everything he accepted. Her very presence defied him and his expectations of life, and of everything else.

And she knew it.

Because he did exactly the same thing to her. They were almost perfect rivals. They were so alike in the ways they reacted, even if their mannerisms were more than a little different. At their cores, however, they were the same. And it scared the living daylights out of them.

For her part, she was a little more stubborn than he was and refused to admit that even to the ones she trusted most. Her brothers had always questioned her as to why she always chose to work with or against him, depending on the occasion, and she'd answered a little less confidently than usual.

"Just because," became her regular answer and they'd stop asking soon enough.

The young Nara had now stood to meet her stare, where he noticed the slight dull in the spark of confidence that usually resided in her teal, his shirt torn and stained scarlet above his wound. They stared at each other for a moment and their audience wondered if their hand-to-hand combat would revert to jutsus.

But it didn't. It never did with Temari and Shikamaru, no matter how likely it would seem to occur. They'd simultaneously slipped back into their attacking stances, leaping up into the air to meet in a clash of metal, legs and fists, eyes never leaving the other's each time they met.

At their first clash, Shikamaru had found himself locked with her: kunai against kunai, her left hand moving in an anti-clockwise motion as she tried to break his grip on his weapon. Failing to overpower him, she instead gripped his right wrist tightly, disabling his kunai arm as she made to cut his torso.

But his feet had found hers and he pulled his leg back towards him, pulling her foot along with it. Her stance widened and she lost balance, gripping him a little tighter still as she took a moment to find and gain balance, before leaping back to a safer distance: away from him. She scowled at him.

Breathing heavily, she ran towards him again, left hand slipping into her pouch as she gathered and released six or so shuriken once she'd leapt high into the air. He easily defended himself of course and had more than enough time to counter her attack, as well as defend himself from her assault.

There wasn't much strategy to their spar, oddly enough; it just seemed to be mindless attacks. They'd take it in turns to run at the other and they'd both come out fine each time. They would, of course, land a few blows here and there but that was it.

Sakura sighed to herself, leaning over to tell Tenten just that. The older girl nodded in agreement, but watched them all the same. They had to be patient after all. Shikamaru and Temari had been patient in watching the other fights and now it was their turn. It was only meant to last 30 minutes at most, but it felt like a lot longer.

But to Shikamaru and Temari, it wasn't long enough. They had a lot of things between them, and this was one way of sorting things out. This was their physical challenge and battle with each other, fuelling their rivalry, answering old questions and creating new ones. After all, it wasn't as easy to start a physical fight in the streets as it was to start a debate. So naturally, it was assumed that every time they'd wanted to hit the other was coming out now, not that Temari didn't hit him every now and then.

"Sixty seconds," Neji's voice called to them, and Temari and Shikamaru seemed to speed up and meet more often: faster, harder and with more strength and brutality. Punches were landed on any part of the other they could reach, the two fighters rarely spending a moment too far from the other. There was always an attack, right until the Hyuuga declared an end to their fight.

Temari hit Shikamaru, who had stopped immediately, one more time on the head before grinning to him and walking over to their companions. The latter merely rolled his eyes and took the drink Chouji offered him.

"Not bad, Shikamaru," Chouji said to him, taking a seat beside his friend as Lee, Kiba and Akamaru took Shikamaru and Temari's place on the open field, ready for their own fight. Shikamaru merely shrugged, folding his arms up and behind his head and lying down on the grass. He winced slightly as the cut in his arm opened a little more and he shot up immediately, only to see a figure with a familiar fan standing in front of him.

Temari shook her head at him and sat beside him, pulling his arm from him to examine her damage. She shook her head to herself once more.

"Shame. It doesn't look like I hurt you that much this time," she told him with a smirk. He scowled at her, taking her by the wrist and forcefully removing her grip from his arm.

"Mendokuse. It's not my fault you're useless at cutting off my arm when I give you a chance to do so," he responded lazily, while searching in his pouch for a bandage. He was greeted with a smack across the back of his head by an all too familiar hand.

Ignoring her, he simply rubbed his head and continued his search.

"You could just ask Sakura or Ino to heal you," she continued on.

"It's a minor cut that'll heal in a few days. People could get a lot more hurt than I have while we're doing this sparring thing and they're yet to have their own battles. It's a waste of chakra," he went on, still lacking a bandage.

Temari, annoyed with him once more, took out one of her own bandages in a few seconds, holding it up before him.

"Here. Give me your arm," she said to him, taking it before he could respond. Taking out a bottle of water and antiseptic wipes, she cleaned the wound before expertly wrapping the bandage around his arm, Shikamaru looking up at the clouds as she did so.

"You can stop avoiding me now," she said to him as she gently tied a knot just past the wound. He looked back at her and she turned away, focusing her attention on Lee and Kiba. He looked at her for a moment, watching her hair blow in the now existent breeze, taking in every inch of her, before he turned to look in the same direction she was.

They were almost perfect rivals; they were almost the best friends. They were almost perfect enemies, and they were almost the other's perfect partner. But because that's just how they were, they'd settle for almost and leave it at that. She'd push him in almost every other aspect, just not the ones that mattered.

And as they sat in the grass, side by side, he brought his hand to his knee, gently brushing past hers, and that's the closest they'd ever be. Temari fought with her fan, and he with the shadows. But when they fought each other they worked on their hand-to-hand combat. Simply because they knew that was the only time they'd get to touch the other, because that would be the only time they'd ever be that close.

They'd never admit it. They'd never know. Just because they accepted that almost was as far as they could go.

Now they're average sparring buddies.

**A/N: **Not the greatest ending but hey. Sorry for any grammatical errors and that. And yeah. It took me the day to get it out and I'm still not entirely happy with it haha hope the next one's better, aye?

jm


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